


The Deadliest Games

by Wildcard



Series: Hungerstuck [1]
Category: Homestuck, Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildcard/pseuds/Wildcard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider is the third Strider to be Reaped.  Both of Dave's brothers are Victors. He has a tradition to carry on but all the same, he knows the odds aren't in his favor. It only gets worse when it's announced that Caliborn and Calliope English, the children of the Capitol's President, will be competing in the Hunger Games this year. Still, having Rose as a fellow Tribute and being a Career should count for something, right?</p>
<p>Fic actually features most of the Homestuck chars. I'll add them to the tags as they get introduced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Deadliest Games

“This year, there will be a special twist. Two volunteers from the Capitol will join the twenty-four tributes in the Arena. Not just any two volunteers, though — Caliborn and Calliope, the son and daughter of Lord English!”

The camera cut away from Doc Scratch’s round, genial face to two teenagers, standing side-by-side. Their skin was dyed a dark, vivid green, more ‘exotic’ than the usual pastel shades that the Capitol favored and both of them had swirls tattooed on their cheeks. The boy's swirls were as red as his eyes and the girl’s was green. She was staring at the floor, eyes hidden by the white bangs that fell over her face while he glared aggressively at the cameras. His head was shaved bald, gleaming as if oiled. When he smiled, the camera zoomed in on his mouthful of sharpened teeth.

Dave’s fingers clenched tightly around the neck of his bottle. A moment later, larger fingers descended on his and started to pry his fingers open.

“Fuck the Englishes. They ain’t gonna be any competition.” Bro’s voice rumbled from deep in his chest as his brother leaned over to keep their conversation private. “Dirk knows the kid. He’ll give you the low-down on how to beat him.”

“…Dirk knows Lord English’s kids?” Dave watched his fingers, calloused but still small for an eighteen-year-old’s, open up like flower petals. His brother had only been a Victor for two years. Bro had been a Victor for fifteen. If anything, Dave would’ve expected Bro to be the one in the know.

Bro gave a slight nod, cap slipping down over his eyes. “Dirk’s in with all those Capitol —” Even here, there were cameras and mikes; Bro knew as well as Dave did that they were being recorded, “— Elite. You’ll see. He’ll getcha so many sponsors that it’ll set a new record.”

Caution didn’t come naturally to the Striders but Dave was the third Strider to be drawn for the Reaping. The bookies in the Capitol had been going crazy trying to decide if a third Strider victory was impossibly unlikely or if the training the Striders underwent would give Dave the edge over the competition yet again. 

Bro had to be careful unless he wanted to wreck Dave’s chances before he even entered the arena. 

“I don’t need Dirk selling me to them. The Gamemakers’ll see me with my sword and bam, I’ll get a twelve. Sponsors’ll be falling over all me. They’ll be tripping at my feet like a Victor with no legs going down the stairs.” Dave picked up the bottle of apple juice with his other hand and swigged it down emphatically. The cool, sweet-tart taste of the juice prickled at his tongue and soothed the nerves he refused to admit he had.

“Fuck yeah.” The brothers fist-bumped and Dave pretended not to care that half the room was staring at him.

———————————————————————————-

Rose’s knitting needles flashed. The steady scrape of her sharpening stone as she honed the needles to a lethal point was so familiar a sound to her that she didn’t even register it any longer. 

“Roooooose. Do you gotta do that here? You’re getting scrapings all over your pretty dress. Do it in your room or something.” Roxy knocked back a glass of something sparkling and golden, then gestured for the servant to pour another for her. “Come on! Have a drink. You gotta enjoy this. Capitol’s giving you the finest food and drink. Eat, drink and be merry!”

“For tomorrow you may die.” Rose finished the quotation crisply. She gave a shake of her head at the drink that the Avox proferred. ”I don’t want to gorge myself. Food’ll weigh me down.”

She was District 1 and Career-trained. She didn’t need to stuff herself on food that had been available to her all her life long. The slip of her needles cast a flickering pattern of light against the wall; she watched Roxy’s shadow slump as her mentor hiked up her skirt and sat cross-legged on the seat. 

“You’re gonna have to ditch that attitude before Doc’s show, you know,” Roxy reminded Rose almost vindictively. “Be friendly. Appeal to the sponsors ‘stead of giving them that cold face.”

“Don’t worry,” Rose said calmly, her polishing cloth coming out to shine the needles. She held one up to eye-level, studying the point critically, then twirled it over the back of her hands so fast that it was just a blur of silver. “I already have a plan for that.”


End file.
